


The Southern Peach

by DarkDarling (solsethegreat)



Series: The House of the Phoenix [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Drinking, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Roleplay Logs, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solsethegreat/pseuds/DarkDarling
Summary: Set before 'A Bad, Bad Day,' Channing visits his family bar to entertain the patrons and runs into Jensen, a dark man who makes him very uneasy...





	The Southern Peach

**Author's Note:**

> This was a log that was a part of a game on GJ called The Maison Phoenix about 13 years ago, about a secret society of rich men that owned sexual slaves. It was an AU real person game, you just took the name and likeness of someone and played a character. I have not spoken to anyone from this game in about that long and Gj is long dead, but I have a few of these logs that I will cobble together as a series.

The Southern Peach was a little touch of home for Channing. His brother, William, opened the club in good ol' N'Awlins almost eight years ago and it still remained one of the bright spots of nightlife for those who were tired of Bourbon Street. Channing, of course, was not one for big fancy shows of money, and where the rest of his family lived on an Estate about half an hour out of the city, Channing just kept the empty space over the club as an apartment. Because too much time with his family? That's a killer.

Tonight, he sat at the bar, chatting it up with Joey, the bartender and sipping on some liquor, the likes of which he didn't know. Joey often sat random liquids in front of him on account of him being a VIP. He looked over and saw a dark looking man, one whom he was sure he recognized from somewhere. And tonight he looked especially bitter. Of course, it was Channing's duty to put a smile on any man's face, regardless of how it came to, so he waltzed over and took a seat next to him. "You look down."

Desiring no company this evening, as even the thought of another’s man's touch sent shudders down his spine, Jensen scowled in a dismissive manner when the other man came over and sat next to him in the booth. 

“No,” he started. 

“I’m not down. I’m charting out how exactly I’m going to make one particular man’s life, if even for one night, so insufferable, that Hell will look like a fucking utopia and he’ll beg for forgiveness and regret everything he did to me.” Jensen smirked almost sadistically. 

“..There’s a difference.” Tilting his head back sharply, he downed half of his double rye and ginger with a faint hiss.

"Wow. You're a little... um... well scary I guess. Just thought you'd want a little company is all." Channing shrugged and took a gulp from his large iced tumbler of liquor. "Still, that's not the only reason I came over, y'know. I think I know ya' from somewhere. Um..."

Channing tapped his chin as he studied the other man and tried to think of from where he knew him. Then a lightbulb went off in his head and he whispered. "...you go to Maison?"

“I’m Jensen Ackles. What, you want an autograph or something?” he snarked. 

“I’m not signing your chest or anything, man, just so you know. Not unless you have nice tits.” Taking another more civilized swallow from his increasingly diminished mixed drink, he hesitated visibly after the other man mentioned the lecherous brotherhood of the Maison, if it could be deemed such a thing, and rolled his dark eyes upward slowly. 

“Maybe,” he replied, hardening his stare slowly. “Why, who the hell are you?” he questioned harshly.

"Channing Tatum. Son of Richard Henry Tatum. The senator?" Channing said with a shrug. 

"I just happen to go there a few times a week. Nice place."

Of course Channing went there for an entirely different reason than Jensen. He went there to feel loved, lie with another man. He would never hurt a slave without good reason. "You like it there?"

“Don’t really keep up with politics, sorry,” he shrugged. Swallowing down the last of his booze, he shoved the glass toward Channing and slapped the other man’s arm curtly. “Go be useful and get me a refill. Double rye and ginger,” he explained.

Evidently uninterested in illustrating his reasons for being at Phoenix or whether he enjoyed it there or not, Jensen immediately glanced back down at a pad of paper and pen he had been scribbling out some details on, ignoring Channing until he returned with what he was requested to fetch.

"Yeah... Um... not really my job." Channing quirked his eyebrows at him, then called Joey over and told him to give the quote on quote "nice man" a refill. 

"You don't talk much, do ya?" He asked sincerely. Channing never ever backed down from a challenge.

A moment or so pause came while he continued to disregard the man’s presence, and even the return of his replenished drink, instead quite enthralled with what he was scratching down on the piece of paper. Whatever it was brought a sinister smile to his extravagant lips. Reaching for the glass, pulling it closer, he took a long sip and licked at the corner of his mouth, eventually flickering his eyes up to the man who tarried about. Squinting somewhat, he propped up an eyebrow 

“...Did you say something?” he inquired.

"So was that a sense of humor or a lack thereof?" Channing said with a smirk and rested his head on his hand. He was going to make this man talk if it were the death of him. 

"So... got any erm..." He lowered his voice. "...slaves yet?"

Glancing up from his drink to Channing, then down, then up again, Jensen looked thoroughly exasperated that the man was not picking up on his ever so _subtle_ cues about desiring to be alone. 

“Why, are you a slave and just can’t _wait_ to have someone new beat the shit out of you? If so, not interested, man,” he smirked sarcastically, reclining back in the booth and hooking one elbow over the back of the seat’s padded top.

"Yeah, if I was a slave I wouldn't be here. They're not allowed off the property, 'member?" He chewed on the inside of his jaw looking at him. Beat the shit out of him? He was one of those? Ew.

"You hurt your slaves? That's not nice. I think they should be appreciated, not hurt." 

“To each their own,” he lifted his glass and jeeringly cheersed the other man, opening his throat to put back about another half of his renewed drink. In his opinion, slaves were pathetic. He felt no remorse for them, they willingly kowtowed to others, and that was something he, with all his self-respect and pride, would never do. At least not unless tortured into doing so. Some of the slaves he’d seen at Phoenix were so wretched he wouldn’t even gain any pleasure from thrashing them half to death, as they were not worth his time. He, however, spoke nothing of this, instead returning to his rough scribbling on the paper.

"Have you never heard of 'Do unto others as you would yourself?' How the fuck would you feel if somebody tortured you mercilessly for hours on end?" He asked very seriously. But he was still a gentleman. "I'm sorry... That was a bit rough of me."

Away went the remainder of his drink, setting the glass down rather heavily. Again did he glide the glass toward Channing. It’d worked before, why not repeat the behaviour, as the outcome had been pleasurable. Whether it was the man’s job or not to serve the patrons, even those as insolent as himself, the man seemed acquainted with a few in this bar, so, connections and all that. It saved Jensen getting up..

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” he sneered. Clearly, though, he did not heed to the statement’s suggestion. “And I have no desire to lick another man’s boots so that he can thus lick mine in return. That’s fucking disgusting, and there’s always some pitiful creature out there who gets off on knowing they are worthless. Let them fill that role and I’ll fill mine.”

"They aren't worthless. They're human beings. And some of them are the most interesting and beautiful people I have ever met. Maybe if you opened your mind a little more you'd understand that." Oh yeah, this was a heated subject for Channing. Yeah, he knew he was a master and he couldn't change the fates of those boys, and that they were in fact providing him a service as well. But he wanted to make them feel loved, because they were loved by him, as much as Channing could. He ignored the glass as Joey poured more into Channing's and not Jensen's.

Sneering, he watched his unspoken request go ignored. Easy was it to sense the slow agitation that crept into Channing’s voice – evidently Jensen had struck a nerve, and a very sensitive one. Scoffing, he stood up and eased past the other man. “You’re one of those sentimental, ‘let’s combine our chakras and feel as one’ type of hippie pansies, aren’t you?” With that, he walked to the other bar across the establishment and ordered himself a beer, advancing a suggestive grin to a blond waitress that swaggered past him while he waited.

"Yes, In fact I am. I can't help but being a decent human being!" He yelled out after him and shrugged. 

"Asshole." He said, looking up at the bartender. "I'm going up to my place. If my brother stops by, tell him I'm not home. I kinda just wanna be alone tonight, okay?"

And then he finished his drink and moved to the front door, walking out and into the alleyway, up the steel stairs that lead to his place, and unlocked his door.

Acquiring his drink, one of many he’d had that evening, the young actor was pleased as the flaxen haired cutie strutted past him again holding her tray and this time skimmed her free-hands fingertips across his lower back. Was looking rather promising.. The bar was closing in less than an hour, and he was sure to obtain her number after her shift was over, and perhaps her room key, if things went in his favour... Noticing the other man he’d been in the somewhat heated conversation with depart, he snorted in his direction and wrapped his lips around the beer bottle’s mouth, quaffing the somewhat transparent liquid.

Of course, the heated conversation made Channing forget his wallet at the bar, so he walked back in and passed by Jensen's table with an eye roll, then back to the bar, where Joey, like the doll he was, had put the wallet behind it for safe-keeping. 

"Hey, can you keep an eye on that guy? He just... creeps me out." He said with a nod, getting a yeah in response from the man behind the bar.

As his sentimental, tree-hugger, let’s all be friends ‘pal’ walked past him, Jensen scowled and was certain the other man saw it. Reclining against the bar where he still stood, he pulled out a few bills and requested a couple shots. The tender poured three and lined them up for the dark-haired actor, accepting the money with a cue that Jensen required no change in return.. Leisurely patrons were beginning to file out of the pub, and, gratifyingly, the smoking waitress sat down next to him at the bar, counting her tips before she cashed out. Gaining a name, Jensen worked to further pry out some details..

Sure, he let him know that he wanted him to watch Jensen, but... he was a little uncertain he wanted to leave one of his waitresses alone with him. So he walked over and intervened. 

"Uhm... hey, Stephanie, before you go, can you go sign off on the new kegs in the back?" He asked. Sure it was his brother's club, but when he was away he had to do things too. Then when the woman left he looked at Jensen. 

"She's a nice girl, I really don't think she needs to be bothered by you. Now, if you don't mind, we're closing." He said, glancing to the door.

Catching the blond’s eyes as she reluctantly departed, Jensen scrubbed his gaze down her backside and grimaced, grinding his teeth. Cock block of the century, right there..

“I happen to like nice girls, at least for a night, and they like me, thank you very much,” he growled. “Just because we have different views doesn’t mean you have to ruin my night. Why don’t you go hold hands in a circle, light some incense and get the fuck off my back here, man.”

"Aw, gee, I would, but then again I have a job to do. Now you could leave very peacefully or I could get my friend Hugo over there to escort you out." He said standing unflinching and stalwart, making a nod to the bouncer. "I figure you're a man of pride and would rather walk out with some dignity."

“How right you are,” he concurred, though in no real hurry to depart just yet. Taking the first of the trio of shots, he downed it, then the second, then third, only then chasing them with the residue of his beer. Setting the bottle down, he winked provocatively at the returning waitress who cast her eyes down sheepishly before continuing with her duties.. Meandering out of the bar, Jensen allowed the door to slam heavily behind him, not glancing back. Standing in the parking lot a moment, he took a second to recall where he’d parked his truck before strolling over to it, pressing the mechanism on his keychain to unlock the large, gleaming sable machine.

"Make sure that Stephanie gets to her car unbothered." He said to Hugo, the bouncer, then he walked outside, around the back of the alley and up his stairs again. Victorious. Maybe the Maison Phoenix let him get away with that stuff, but he wouldn't do that here. Not ever.


End file.
